My Immortal
by memellymoo
Summary: "Because I knew you. I have been changed for good." Carla/Michelle friendship-fic, ANGST WARNING.


**TITLE:** My Immortal.

 **AUTHOR:** memellymoo.

 **RATING:** PG13

 **DISCLAIMER:** I do not own Coronation Street or anything related to it, I'm just borrowing them for a short while, I promise to put them back when I'm finished.

 **SUMMARY: "** Because I knew you. I have been changed for good." Carla/Michelle friendship fic. Angst warning. Character Death.

 **AUTHORS NOTE:** Not really sure where this came from. It might be the angstiest thing I have ever written. Sorry. I know the pace of this changes quite abruptly towards the end but that was a conscious decision I made as I felt it sort of fit with the occurring events.

 _ **it well may be that we will never meet again**_

 _ **in this lifetime**_

 _ **so let me say before we part**_

 _ **so much of me is made of what i learned from you**_

Reality never was the same as it was depicted on TV, in film or within the pages of storybooks, especially not for Michelle Connor and this moment was no exception, whenever she had read about life or death situations the noise was always described so vividly; the whoosh and hiss of the ventilator, the constant beeping of the machines, the loud intrusive alarms and the hustle and bustle of the team of doctors and nurses assembled to help the sick fight whatever it was that ailed them.

Sitting by the window Michelle realized that the reality could not be further from the truth, the ventilator was silent; there was no hissing or whooshing instead just an occasional beep like the arrival of an elevator signaling a change in the patients needs. The machines didn't make a constant beep instead silent neon lines waved across the screen like a snail's path only alarming when the situation changed but even then the noise did not last long, it was silenced within seconds as the medical team assembled, working with an efficiency that only years of practice could bring.

The doctors and nurses moved silently, their steps and actions graceful and purposeful as they seemed to create an ongoing work of art as they fought tirelessly to prevent death from taking yet another life.

No, the reality was that the battle for life or death that was taking place within the hospital walls was anything but noisy, it was a silent scream of anguish that could only be understood by those who had lived through it.

People just like Michelle who had been sat there for 9 sunrises and 9 sunsets, praying to a God she wasn't sure she believed in and begging someone she wasn't even sure could hear her, because in that very moment as she watched her best friend fight with everything she had whilst being kept alive by medicine and machinery hope, faith and love was all she had.

Moving away from the window she ran her hand tiredly through her hair, her fingers shaking as her eyes trailed over the broken body of her friend, a body fighting for every breath it was taking.

"They say this is it," Michelle whispered, her voice quivering. "But I don't believe them because I know you, I know that you have never given up on anything and this is no different. You've got this … I know you have."

When she received no response Michelle closed her eyes, a lone tear falling silently down her pale cheeks, her eyes ringed with exhaustion like two pale craters on a moonlight face.

Leaning her head on the bed, she was careful not to disrupt the multitude of wires that surrounded her.

"Do you remember your thirteenth birthday? Of course you do … that was the first time I really realized just how much you had to put up with at home … and how lucky I was to have the parents I did … you just shrugged though … said it is what it is and that one day none of it would matter … you were right … sort of … it will always matter Carla because it made you who you are … made us the friends we are …"

"You know I didn't always like you right? You used to make me so mad sometimes that I could barely be in the same room as you but like you said once … sand shifts … it did and you became my sister Carla … not just because you were married to my brother but because … you were like the other half of my soul … the only person that I could ever really be completely myself with."

A nurse dressed in dark blue scrubs approached the bed, attaching a bag of blood and honey colored liquid to one of the many infusion lines that were keeping her alive.

"Alone again," Michelle whispered as the nurse left, although she didn't go far, standing outside the room, watching through a large glass window, her eyes fixed on the monitor.

"Visiting time was supposed to be over hours ago … they made everyone else go home. Alex … or should I say Ali … he knows someone that works here … begged them … I needed time alone with you … because I need you to listen to me ok? Now I know that taking orders from other people is something that you've never really been very good at but I need you to make an exception just this once. Ok?"

"The doctors, nurses, all those people they don't know you, not like I do, no one does, so when they say this is it … that there's nothing else they can do I know they're wrong … they say your body has rejected the kidney … that the infection has overwhelmed you … that your organs have shut down … that all the drugs and blood and machines are not enough anymore … they want to stop … say it's best to let you go peacefully … but when has that ever been the way you've ever done anything eh? You've always been … what was it my mum called you … scrappy?"

Tears were flowing freely down Michelle's face now as she continued to talk, holding steadfast in the belief that Carla was still in there somewhere, still fighting. "Scrappy. I remember when I told you that you asked if that made me Scooby. You have to fight this Carla … with everything you have because it's what we do best right? We fight and eventually the battle ends with us still standing so dig in ok because I plan on walking out of here with you."

"Dean, Paul, Liam, Tony, Frank, Steve, Peter, Nick, Ruari … my little boy … your little girl … we've survived it all Carla … so much that we could write a book … hell when this battle is over we should write a book … "

As she heard footsteps approach Michelle turned her head to see a group of medical professional assemble outside, she could hear that hushed whispers, see the sorrowful look in their eyes and she knew what they were thinking.

"It can't end like this," Michelle cried.

"Getting up everyday knowing that you won't be there and not just because you're in Devon or LA or … somewhere else but because you're gone, gone … I can't do it. I know you might think I'm being really selfish here, that it's not about me but … it kinda is … because when you're gone … you're gone but I will still be here, we all will and you can't leave me to deal with it all on my own."

"They're going to make me leave soon," Michelle feared. "So I need you to promise me that you won't go doing anything stupid whilst I'm gone ok?"

When once again she received no response she laid her head back down on the pillow. "We've lost so much Carla … I can't lose you."

Holding onto her friend's hand Michelle could feel her pulse flutter like the fragile wings of a butterfly struggling against a tornado and as much as it filled her with hope because it was still there, still beating it also terrified her because if there was one word she had never once before associated with Carla Connor it was fragile.

She was always the strongest person in the room the loud voice pulling her back from the edge when she thought she could go on no more. The girl who no matter how many time she was knocked down would always get back up, slap on some lippy, a pair of sky-high heels and face the world no matter how much she was hurting. The woman who despite having her heart shattered into a million pieces time and time again still had a capacity to love like no one else she had ever met. The friend who despite being let down by so many people in her life would always stay by your side, defend you and fight for you even when she had no one to fight for her.

She was all of that and so much more.

Carla Connor wasn't fragile. She wasn't just another statistic that you could quote, she wasn't neon numbers on a screen or falling red blood cells.

She was her best friend.

The only best friend she had ever had in nearly 40 years on this planet.

So even though she could hear what they were saying, even though after days and weeks of one setback after another she could now understand the language they were speaking, understand what the numbers and results meant Michelle still had hope because without it she didn't know how she would have the strength to get up every morning and fight.

Then, in the blink of an eye everything changed, the silence shattered as people started rushing into the room, a small red-haired woman no more than five feet tall took Michelle by the hand and tried to lead her out as a crowd of people surrounded the bed.

"No."

Michelle could feel herself speaking but the words were distant, like she was underwater listening to it as everything seemed to blur around her.

Time stopped.

Her senses dulled.

Her mouth became so dry she felt like she was suffocating on her own breath.

The room disappeared from view.

Faces changed.

She could hear a scream so loud she worried the windows would break.

And then she realized. It was her, the screams belonged to her, screams so full of anguish that she didn't even recognize the sound of her own voice, the beat of her own heart.

Nothing felt like it was hers anymore, as they started to step away from the bed, their eyes full of sorrow and regret she felt like she was trapped in someone else's body, a body she didn't know how to work as she looked down at her hands and willed them to move.

"Please," she pleaded.

"Please."

"Please."

"Please."

The word repeated again and again until it didn't even sound like a word anymore.

The small red-haired nurse guided her to a chair, she could see it in her eyes, she could feel it in the air.

She was gone.

Hope was gone.

"Please. No," Michelle cried.

Looking over at the person in the bed Michelle barely recognized her, she was still, lifeless, unmoving. "It wasn't supposed to end like this," she whispered.

"You were supposed to get your happy ever after," she cried.

Standing up she couldn't be there anymore, not without her. "I'm sorry," she breathed as she leaned forward, kissed her gently on the head and headed for the door.

Years later when she would try and recall what happened next she would recount every detail, wonder if she could have changed the outcome, written a different ending but for now all she had was this one.

As she stepped outside and watched the sunrise on a new day she wanted to scream, to tell everyone to stop. To tell them they had no right to keep on going as if nothing had changed when everything had changed.

She wanted the world to stop spinning, the birds to stop singing and the daylight to stop coming but it didn't, as she looked around everything appeared the same but it wasn't.

Everything was different.

Nothing would ever be the same again.

"I'm sorry," she cried, even though there was no one around to listen. "It was never supposed to end like this."

 _ **and now whatever way our stories end**_

 _ **I know you have rewritten mine**_

 _ **by being my friend**_


End file.
